Archive of Our Own

Gil swallowed down his worry as he stayed his raised hand, poised to knock on the door again.

The kid was fine, he was just finally getting some sleep. Nothing sinister, just his exhaustion catching up with him.

He blew out a breath and knocked again, his heart in his throat as he listened for any sounds in the apartment. When only silence met him, he couldn’t contain his concern anymore and pulled out his spare key that he only ever used in absolute emergencies. He refused to abuse the privilege given to him with this little silver key. Malcolm trusted him enough to be allowed into his inner sanctuary when he felt he needed to, because Malcolm couldn’t let him in himself.

Nodding to himself with his decision he twisted the key and pushed the door open, stepping into the loft. He took a moment to acknowledge Sunshine who was chirping in distress at the intrusion.

“It’s ok girl. Just checking on our boy,” Gil reassured her quietly, giving her a small scratch behind her head as he passed her cage.

When he turned and took in the curled up figure on the rumpled bed, his heart stumbled through its beat at the fragility of the image in front of him.

Malcolm was curled totally in on himself. Comforting himself in his sleep. Folded in, everything tucked away and protected from the outside world.

Gil knew that the outside world was just one of the many dangers Malcolm had to protect himself from. The world inside his head was probably even more dangerous to the kid. The demons that battled him in his sleep, depriving him of ever getting a decent night's sleep.

Gil’s heart clenched as Malcolm whimpered and shifted on the bed, his hands clenching and gasping at whatever they could reach.

Gil reacted on instinct, he stepped through the room and grabbed the throw rug from the back of the couch and stepped up to the bed.

He paused as he looked down at Malcolm remembering a teen Malcolm curled up on the guest bed, his cries in his sleep bringing Gil into the room in the early hours of the morning. He would cover him with the tossed aside blankets and sit on the bed beside him, stroking his hair and back until the demons let him go again and he settled back into proper sleep. He couldn’t recall just how many early mornings he spent seated in the stiff armchair in the corner of the guest room, watching over his kid, so he could be ready to comfort him if the dreams returned. It was worth the lost sleep, so that his kid could get a few hours of his own.

Gil shook himself from his reminiscing as Malcolm moaned and shifted again, his face twitching into a grimace.

“Ah Kid, I got you,” Gil whispered as he moved around the bed and draped the soft, fleecy blanket across Malcolm's hunched form, making sure to tuck it around his shoulders. Gil frowned as Malcolm continued to moan and become more agitated in his sleep, his head thrashing from side to side as if in denial of what he was seeing in his nightmare scape.

With a sigh, Gil shucked off his jacket and removed his badge, holster and gun, laying them across the bedside table. He looked down at Malcolm once more, taking in his clenched and grinding jaw, before sitting down behind Malcolm and gently running his fingers through the rumpled and sleep mussed hair.

“Shh, you’re ok, just sleep,” Gil whispered as Malcolm’s agitation failed to still with his repeated touch. Desperate to comfort him, Gil shuffled closer so that his hip was leaned up against Malcolm’s back and rubbed a soothing rhythm up and down his arm as he continued to smooth back his hair from where it had fallen over his forehead and cheek.

Gil was heartened a little as he felt Malcolm push back into him with a sigh. He smiled down at Malcolm’s huddled form and held back the rush of emotion the image evoked. He had never had a kid of his own, but he knew what it felt like to love one. Malcolm had wormed his way into his heart and lodged himself there permanently.

His heart pained as Malcolm became distressed again. Gil took in Malcolm’s posture and the fact that he was basically hugging himself as best he could in his sleep and decided what he needed to do to try and comfort his kid.

After a second of hesitation, he huffed out a sigh of frustration at himself as Malcolm whimpered again and lay down behind Malcolm and gently wrapped him in his arms.

Malcolm’s soft sigh and shuffle back into the warmth of Gil’s chest reassured him that he had made the right decision. He thought about all the times Malcolm would lean into his touch almost like he was starved for it. Gil had to swallow back the surge of hurt as he realised that was probably exactly what he was doing. As a kid he would hug him and always had his arm slung over his shoulder as they walked anywhere. Now as an adult, he would still offer him the comfort of touch, but it was reserved for those extreme moments of need. He knew Jessica loved him too, but she was not a touch person and really who else did Malcolm have in his life to give him the touch he needed. Gil closed his eyes at the ache as Malcolm burrowed in further to his warmth, Gil squeezed him tighter in response. Malcolm’s soft murmur of contentment was almost Gil’s undoing as he fought to push the emotions back down, blinking back the tears that threatened.

Gil tucked his chin over Malcolm's hair and shaped himself around him to give him as much touch as he could. He vowed to make sure that in the future he would give Malcolm as much touch as he needed and was comfortable with. He knew that Malcolm would probably be embarrassed about needing this touch, but Gil would do his best to make him understand that it was ok and if he would let him, he was happy to provide what he needed.